


burning

by Chaosandthecalm



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Sex Pollen, Shameless Smut, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 00:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5891155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaosandthecalm/pseuds/Chaosandthecalm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We need to get to a hospital.”</p><p>“No…just…get away from me.” He growled, pushing himself away from Fushimi.</p><p>“Misaki this is not the time to be a stubborn idiot. They poisoned you with something.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	burning

**Author's Note:**

> What is it about these two just makes me want to write porn about them? I don't understand? Also I'm a sucker for 'sex pollen' fics and I will figure out a way to do one for every fandom. Mwahahaha!

They were fighting side by side – something that seemed to be occurring more often these days. Yata kept griping at him and throwing out ‘Monkey’ and Fushimi wouldn’t miss a beat, just smirk and let ‘Misaki’ roll off his tongue until he could see the anger in the shorter man’s eyes. Maybe it was because they were more focused on each other than their enemy but the next thing Fushimi knew one of the masked men was darting out and plunging a syringe into Yata’s arm. He heard a pained hiss as Yata realized what was happening and pulled it out quickly. Fushimi saw that it was empty when Yata dropped it on the ground. 

Fushimi turned back to fight off the men but they were retreating. He growled and tucked the knife in his hand back into the holder inside of his sleeve. He turned back to look at Yata just as he crumbled, his knees giving out. 

“Misaki…” he said quietly, forcing himself to walk over slowly when all we wanted was to drop next to him and make sure he was alright. Yata wasn’t looking at him, just bending over, shoulders hunched, his breathing strained. 

“Are you alright?” Fushimi asked, not bothering to keep the concern out of his voice as he knelt down next to Yata. The first thing he noticed was the incredible heat radiating off of him. He could see his face under his orange hair and it was bright red. 

“Misaki…” he mumbled, reaching one hand out to tilt his head up. Yata moved back quickly, slapping his hand away with burning fingers.

“Don’t.” his voice was clipped, like it was hard to even get one word out. Fushimi could feel actual panic start to rise in his chest as he scooted closer, forcing Yata’s face up before he could pull away again. It was shining with sweat, his cheeks burning red. He felt the breath stutter in his lungs when he saw Yata’s eyes. They were unfocused and hazy, his pupils blown out so wide that his eyes looked completely black. Fushimi raised his shaking fingers and brushed them against Yata’s sweaty forehead. He was burning up.

“We need to get to a hospital.”

“No…just…get away from me.” He growled, pushing himself away from Fushimi.

“Misaki this is not the time to be a stubborn idiot. They poisoned you with something.” 

Yata squeezed his eyes shut and shifted back until he was pressed against the wall. His chest was heaving with his strained breathing, and he tilted his head back. Fushimi glared at him as he moved forward, reaching out to touch him. Yata’s eyes shot open as he got closer and he tried to get away but ended up tripping and landing half on Fushimi, bracing himself by putting his hands on Fushimi’s shoulders. Fushimi’s hand brushed down Yata’s stomach to steady him and then landed on…oh.

Yata was incredibly, painfully hard. His erection was straining against his shorts and the moment the back of Fushimi’s fingers brushed against it he gasped and curled into the touch. 

“Fuck…” he whispered, trying to get closer. Fushimi’s eyes widened and he moved away, Yata’s hands dropping from his shoulders.

“Oh no…”

“Saru please…oh god….” Yata’s voice was hoarse and desperate, his eyes pleading with him. Fushimi felt his lungs burning as he tried to take in a breath. This was not happening. 

“Misaki…we need to leave. Get you somewhere….”

Somewhere that wasn’t there with him. He could already feel his resolve crumbling as Yata looked up at him through his eyelashes, eyes black and shining with desperate need. Fushimi clenched his hands and turned away. 

“Let’s go.” He said, not reaching down to help Yata. He heard shuffling behind him and kept walking, not turning back. 

“I’ll get you to HOMRA.” 

“No.”

Fushimi stopped and turned to look at him. Yata was holding himself up, using the wall for support. He was still dazed; Fushimi could see the line of his cock pushing against his zipper. He forced his eyes up to look at Yata’s face, even though it wasn’t any better. 

“I can’t…not like this...”

Fushimi sighed and realized that Yata was probably right. He wouldn’t want to be brought into Scepter 4 in that state. 

“Fine.” He said quietly, turning and walking away, knowing that Yata would follow him. 

~~

They ended up at Fushimi’s apartment. By the time they got there Yata was in even worse shape. His clothes were soaked through with sweat and he was practically writhing against Fushimi’s couch. 

“Saru…you smell so good…fuck…”

Fushimi grit his teeth and moved to the other side of the room, his phone in his hand. He went down the list of contacts and then sighed as he got to the Captains name. He didn’t have any other choice.

“Fushimi.” The captain’s calm voice said on the other line.

“Captain. I have a problem.”

“What is it?” the tone of his voice didn’t change. The world could be ending and he would still sound calm and collected. Fushimi pushed the annoyance down and steeled himself. 

“It’s Misaki. We were fighting those thugs downtown and one of them injected him with something …he’s…. not himself.” 

“What are the symptoms?”

Fushimi pressed one cool hand over his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath.

“Uh…he’s burning up and he seems dazed. He's sweating like crazy and…”

“And?”

“He’s aroused.”

There was a short silence and then the Captains made a small noise of understanding.

“Where is he now?”

“My apartment.”

“Fushimi you won’t like what I’m going to tell you.”

Fushimi was sure he wouldn’t.

“What is it?”

“You have to do it. You need to relieve him. It won’t stop until you do.”

Fushimi’s heart sped up and he felt his eyes widen.

“No! He’s not himself…he’s…”

“If you don’t do this he will over heat and he will end up going into shock.” 

“Fine then I’ll get someone…someone else…”

“Were you the first one to touch him?” 

Fushimi could hear his blood rushing in his ears.

“Yes…”

“Then it has to be you.”

Fushimi growled and pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts.

The Captain took a deep breath.

“You could try to cool him down, but Fushimi…this is the best way. Probably the only way.”

Fushimi growled and hung up without thanking him, something he would be chastised for later by Seri but he couldn’t bother to care at that moment. He turned to look over at Yata who was arching off his couch, his breathing quick and labored. He was flushed and his hair was dark with sweat. 

“Come on.” Fushimi said quietly, walking to his bedroom. He quickly stripped off the covers and the sheets 0ff his bed. Yata stumbled in and Fushimi pushed him onto the bed with the tips of his fingers. Yata leaned into the contact, sighing at the touch. He landed on the bare mattress, his legs spreading and his eyes finding Fushimi’s immediately.

“Saru…are you…?”

“No. Strip.” He said, voice harsh. Yata whined, low in his throat but did as he was told. He undid the knot in the sweater at his waist, then reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. When he got to his shorts he couldn’t get them open, his fingers too shaky. Every time he bumped his knuckles against his erection he would gasp and close his eyes. Fushimi angrily stepped forward, knocking Yata’s hands away and undoing his shorts as quickly as he could. Yata was pushing into his fingers, his hands trying to pull Fushimi closer.

“Yata you have to stop.” He said through clenched teeth, pulling his shorts down and off until he was just in his black boxer briefs. He could see his cock against the fabric, the tip soaking through. He could feel desire tugging at him, his own cock jumping in his uniform pants. Yata was covered in sweat, the flush from his face going down his pale chest. The freckles on his shoulders were stranding out against his burning skin. 

“I need…please…” Yata was mumbling, his hands trying to find purchase on the mattress. Fushimi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He let his hands slide off his uniform coat, his skin prickling with heat, and threw it on a chair. He wouldn’t look at Yata, not even when he made low sounds of approval as he rolled the sleeves his shirt up to elbows. 

“Oh fuck…you’re so hot…. I want you….”

“Shut up.” 

It was getting harder, not to just slide his hands over all of that overheated skin. Lick a line up with quivering muscles, wrap his fingers around his leaking cock. 

“Saru…I need it.” Yata groaned, throwing his head back and sliding one hand down his own chest. He stopped at the waist band of his boxer briefs, sliding the tips of his fingers under it, his hips arching off the bed. 

Fushimi tore his gaze away and turned to walk out of the room and into his kitchen. He opened the freezer and let the cold air cool his skin. He took a deep breath again and pulled out a bag of ice. He opened a cabinet, taking out a clean towel and dumped the whole bag out into it, tying the ends together. He carried the bag back into the room, almost dropping it at the sight in front of him. Yata had managed to push his underwear off, his hand wrapped around his erection, panting as he worked himself. 

“Sa…ru.” He groaned quietly, his thumb slipping over the head. He was so hard it looked painful, leaking down his knuckles and pooling in the dip of his stomach. Fushimi’s hand was a vice on the towel. He broke out of his haze and marched over and dropped it onto Yata’s chest. He gasped loudly, his eyes shooting open, his hand falling away from his cock. 

“Oh fuck!”

Fushimi felt the corner of his mouth turn up but then Yata adjusted and started moaning, low in his throat.

“That feels good…” he mumbled, squirming against the mattress. The ice was already melting, small rivulets of water sliding down his chest and pooling between his abs. Fushimi swallowed thickly and moved away, sitting down in his desk chair. He watched as Yata moved around on his bed. He was making a mess, sweat and water soaking through his mattress.

“Fushimi.” 

His breath caught in his lungs and he looked at Yata’s face. His eyes were on him, clear and focused for the first time since he was injected. 

“Please. Fuck me.” 

Fushimi’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yes I do. I need it. I’m dying.”

Fushimi shook his head, couldn’t get his voice to work, not when Yata was looking at him like that. Yata pushed the towel away, most of the ice already melted and sat up, sitting back against his legs. His cock was standing up, red and swollen, precum dripping down between his thighs and onto the mattress.

“I need you, Fushimi.” 

Everything was burning. The need to march over and push Yata down, fuck him into the bed was sizzling in his veins. He had wanted this for so long. As long as he could remember. Now Yata was sitting on his bed, begging him, and he couldn’t.

“I can’t…” he choked out, looking away. 

“You don’t want to?” 

“No that’s not it.”

He regretted it the moment it came out of his mouth. Yata inhaled sharply and his lips quirked up into a lazy smile.

“You think I don’t want it?”

“This isn’t you….”

Yata huffed out a laugh and Fushimi raised his eyes to look at him again. He was looking dazed again, his skin shining with new sweat. His eyes were blazing and he was staring right at Fushimi when he raised two fingers to his mouth and slid them past his own lips. Fushimi’s breath stuttered as he watched Yata’s tongue slide around his fingers, coating them with spit. 

“What are….” 

Yata didn’t wait for him to finish, just fell forward to brace himself on one bent elbow as he slipped the fingers from his lips and reached behind himself. Fushimi was gripping the arms of his chair so hard that his knuckles went white.

“Don’t.” he said, strained and hoarse. 

“Then do it for me…” Yata muttered, looking up at him through his eyelashes. 

“Misaki….”

“I’ve thought about you doing this…. ah…so many times….” 

Fushimi couldn’t see it but he could imagine, Yata’s fingers slipping into his entrance, shiny with his own spit. Then the words hit him.

“You what?”

“Every time I do this to myself…. late at night…. I think about you…. your cock…” Yata’s breathing was heavier, coming in short puffs past his pink lips. Yata’s eyes squeezed shut as he pushed deeper into himself. Fushimi was up and across the room in a split second, his hand cupping Yata’s chin and jerking it up to look at him.

“You’re lying.” He growled. Yata’s mouth was open slightly, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

“Am I?” 

Then those eyes were clear again, lucid, and Fushimi, who knew Yata better than anyone knew that it was the truth. He surged forward and crashed his mouth into Yata’s, pushing his tongue past his lips. Yata moaned, low and deep, his hand falling away from where he was fingering himself open. He wrapped both arms around Fushimi, pulling him closer.His skin was still burning hot and wet. Fushimi ran his hands down his sides, the body under his hands shivering from his touch. 

“Oh god…so good.” Yata moaned, laying down on the mattress and pulling Fushimi on top of him. 

Every point of contact between them felt like it was on fire. Yata was already arching up into him, pushing his hips against Fushimi’s. Fushimi groaned and buried his face into Yata’s neck, breathing in the scent of warm skin and Yata. He always smelled like the sun and the wind, from being outside all of the time on that stupid skateboard. 

“Fuck…Misaki….” He growled. Yata’s hands were running all over him, driving him crazy, making his mind completely blank. He grabbed Yata’s wrists and pinned them against the bed. Yata moaned and arched up even harder, pressing his cock against Fushimi’s.

“Please…I can’t stand it any longer…” he whispered, his eyes fluttering closed and his breath speeding up. Fushimi pushed his fingers against Yata’s lips, watching as he sighed and opened them, tongue darting out to wet them. They both moaned as Yata slicked them up, sliding his tongue over each one, then slipping between them. Fushimi pulled them out roughly, kissing the side of Yata’s mouth as an apology and reached down between his legs. Everywhere was incredibly hot, Yata’s skin burning. He found his entrance and growled when he felt how wet it already was, how good Yata had fucked himself open. 

“Misaki…” he muttered, slipping one finger in. Yata’s fingers dug into his shoulders, bunching up in his shirt. 

“Fuck…yes…” 

Yata pushed down on his finger, his eyes half lidded and lip caught between his teeth. 

“More…” he breathed out, arching his spine. Fushimi didn’t need to be told twice as he slipped the second finger in alongside the first. Yata whined and pushed down even harder, taking them in all the way. His thighs were gripping Fushimi’s hips, keeping him close. The air between them was warm, almost dreamlike. Fushimi looked down at Yata’s face, the flush on his cheekbones, the burning desire in his eyes and pulled his hand away in one swift motion. Yata keened at the loss and his nails scratched down his back, his shirt the only thing standing in the way. 

“Misaki…tell me it’s ok.” He whispered, using his other hand to tilt Yata’s head until he was looking at him. Yata’s eyes were unfocused but clear.

“I want you to fuck me.” He said, his voice steady despite the pounding of his heart. Fushimi let go of him and sat back, undoing his belt and pushing his pants down to his thighs. Yata was writhing on the mattress again, desperate little sounds pouring form his lips. 

Fushimi stroked his cock twice, coating it in precum. He was impossibly hard; felt like he had been for hours. He let go, his hand shaking with the effort and braced himself over Yata. He had pictured this so many times over the years. Loving and passionate in the early days and then angry and hard more recently. But this was nothing like any of those times. Yata was looking up at him, eyes shining and trusting, his bottom lip quivering with his heavy breaths and his hands gripping Fushimi’s arms.

“Fushimi….”

His breath caught in his throat and he leaned down to kiss Yata, just once before he lined himself up and thrust hard. They both froze, Fushimi buried in tight heat all the way to the hilt, Yata’s thighs shaking against his hips. Then Yata was moaning, loud and deep, and throwing his head back. 

“Oh fuck yes…” 

Fushimi took a few steadying breaths, didn’t want this to be over so quickly, and finally started to move. He slid out slowly, both of them groaning and then thrust back in forcefully, Yata bearing down on him. 

“Yes…fuck…” 

Yata’s hands were gripping his back, nails catching on the fabric of his shirt. Their bodies came together over and over again, each time sending sparks down Fushimi’s spine. His mind was completely blank. The only thing he could see and hear and smell was Yata, so real under him. 

The air grew hotter, Yata’s skin burning against him. Fushimi gripped his hips and drove in harder, the slap of their flesh meeting sending a jolt through him. They were doing this. He looked down at Yata, spread out on his back, hair pushed up in sweaty spikes and was met with clear blue eyes. 

“Fushimi…”

He felt his breath catch in his throat as he froze, still sheathed inside of Yata. Then a hand was reaching out and softly tracing his cheek, pulling him down. The kiss was slow and soft and so intimate it made him ache. 

“Thank you.” Yata whispered as they parted, his breath warm on Fushimi’s mouth. Then he braced his feet on the bed and pushed his hips down, taking Fushimi’s full length inside of him. They both gasped, grasping at each other desperately as Fushimi picked up the same rhythm. 

Yata’s hands were less frantic now, sliding over his body carefully, like he was taking in every line, memorizing it. Fushimi felt his vision blur. The realization that this was Yata, completely in his right mind, still allowing him this was enough to drive him over the edge. He groaned and bit into the skin of Yata’s shoulder. Yata moaned, long and high pitched and his back arched as he came. 

Afterwards they lay frozen, Fushimi barely holding himself up on shaking arms. Yata moved first, wrapping his arms around Fushimi’s shoulders and pulling him close. Finally, Fushimi let himself fall, his chest sticky under his shirt with his sweat.

“Hey Saru…”

Fushimi stirred lazily, his body heavy.

“Hm?”

“I meant what I said…I wanted this.”

Fushimi felt the last knot of tension in his body release, the words making him feel breathless. 

“It wouldn’t have worked if I didn’t.”

Fushimi forced himself up on his elbows, looking down at Yata with his eyebrows furrowed.

“What are you talking about?”

Yata shrugged.

“This happened to someone else at HOMRA. Apparently the poison only works if the person who touches you first is someone you actually wanna fuck.”

Fushimi let that information sink it.

“Wait…who at HOMRA?”

“Mikoto.” Yata said, his mouth turning up in the corners. Fushimi felt himself laughing before he realized what he was doing. It felt good, even though it was a little strange, to laugh with Yata again. 

“Were you the one who touched him Misaki?” he asked, raising one eyebrow. Yata rolled his eyes and pushed him until they were lying side by side.

“You might wanna ask your Captain about that.”


End file.
